


Ineffable Husbands: Angsty Fluff prompts

by cephalopod_groupie



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ficlets, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Romance, celestial dorks, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-05-12 19:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19235314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephalopod_groupie/pseuds/cephalopod_groupie
Summary: Prompts from the Crypt.Read here





	1. Come Cuddle

Aziraphale could sense Crowley’s searing gaze from across the booth. In the soft lighting of a private room in London’s [Hide](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.hide.co.uk%2Frestaurant%2Fprivate&t=MTMzZWFmZWI3MjI2ODgyNjMxNDhkY2VjY2U4OWZlMjk2ODk5MzFiYSxkN21hekZxYw%3D%3D&b=t%3AGT5zzQf652Zl7aHlmIvVlA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmissanthropicprinciple.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185601730893%2Fineffable-husbands-95&m=1) restaurant visibility was low and he was in real danger of falling asleep…and…other things. He didn’t need even candle light to feel that Crowley was deliciously smirking at him in the sexy gloom. The angel took another sip of red wine, pretending not to notice as Crowley snaked an elegant hand onto Aziraphale’s strong, stout knee. The latter allowed his eyelids to flutter as he tried to fight a lustful sigh of contentment. He breathed a little more strenuously. The demon licked his lips and inhaled lightly, preparing to speak. In no great hurry he uttered in velvet tones, “Come cuddle.” 

“Here?” Aziraphale responded thickly, betraying his apprehension. 

“That’s what we’ve booked a large private booth for, isn’t it?” 

“It was rather indulgent,” Aziraphale chuckled nervously, paying too much attention to his wine glass. Crowley gripped a little more firmly.  

“Come cuddle,” Crowley whispered again. The angel, unable to resist the charming demon, put his glass down on the thick tablecloth and nestled back into Crowley’s embrace. The demon draped a casual arm over Aziraphale’s shoulder, encouraging him even closer. Crowley removed his hand from Aziraphale’s knee and wrapped it around his middle, squeezing tenderly. 

“How very un-demonic of you,” Aziraphale teased, sliding his hand over Crowley’s arm and gripping just above his elbow. “They’ll never let you back in Hell if you keep insisting on showering me with affection.” 

“Shhh,” Crowley murmured, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s jawline. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed, his eyes closing as he pressed his temple to Crowley’s forehead.

“Perhaps I don’t want to go back.” Crowley nestled into Aziraphale’s neck and they both smiled to themselves, dozing gently until closing time.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://missanthropicprinciple.tumblr.com/post/185601730893/ineffable-husbands-95


	2. Don’t be scared, I’m right here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new experience.

Crowley was sweating so profusely it looked like there was a hole in his ceiling and there’d been a heavy downpour. He hadn’t heard the deeply distressed noises he was making, the strangled half-crying as he mumbled Aziraphale’s name. The angel woke up and turned over. He put a hand on Crowley’s shoulder rocking him almost imperceptibly until he jostled him awake. 

“Crowley,” he whispered. “Are you alright?”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, his voice croaky and full of uncertainty. 

“Don’t be scared; I’m right here.”

“I’m not scared I just….are you here?” 

“Yes, I’m here.” The angel repeated this several times as he pulled the demon into his arms and pushed the damp hair off his forehead with his fingertips. 

“You’re crying,” Aziraphale said with achingly gentle tenderness. 

“No, I’m not,” Crowley said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s sweat, see?” 

“Yes, I see,” Aziraphale soothed, cradling him. After several minutes Crowley’s breathing returned to normal. 

“Demons don’t have dreams.”

“They seem to be able to have nightmares,” the angel suggested, softly. 

‘‘We make nightmares…we can’t…we shouldn’t actually have them.” Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley added, “Aziraphale, this has never happened before.”

“Oh, Crowley.” The demon snuggled closer, eyes brimming with tears. Aziraphale covered Crowley’s hand as it rested on his chest. “I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://missanthropicprinciple.tumblr.com/post/185612618113/from-owmyeyeballs-86-ineffable-husbands-dont


	3. What the hell were you thinking?!

“WHY YOU WERE BEING NICE TO MY PLANTS!?!”

“Because they were trembling!!” Aziraphale whined as he looked up at the seething demon with puppy-dog eyes, grasping the water bottle tightly.

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

“You can get the same results if you stop shouting at them. I was simply giving them a few words of encouragement” 

Crowley hung his head and growled. Aziraphale gazed up at the stunning greenery and smiled broadly saying, “they really are quite beautiful.”

“Because I SCREAM AT THEM!!!!”

Aziraphale, an inch from Crowley’s crinkled nose, patted the demon’s chest with patronizing affection. 

“Let’s try an experiment, shall we? If they remain as verdant as ever you must stop abusing them - N-no wait! - and if they deteriorate in any way you can go back to your….routine.”

“Fine,” Crowley sneered, still invading the angel’s personal space. 

“Thank you.” Aziraphale took the opportunity to steel a soft little kiss. Crowley made it as obscene as possible, opening the angel’s mouth with wicked lashings of his tongue and the maddening teasing of his lips. 

“You’ve made your point,” Aziraphale said breathless and blushing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://missanthropicprinciple.tumblr.com/post/185620223278/because-i-just-love-em-to-bits-ineffable-husband


	4. Nothing is wrong with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley sucks at being a demon.

For a demon, Crowley was very good at comforting. He had sauntered into Aziraphale’s bookshop, intending on “tempting” him with a spot of tea at some dainty little place the angel would love. He wasn’t expecting to encounter Aziraphale in such a state of melancholy, who, upon seeing the demon slink into the shop, did the worst possible job of pretending to be perfectly cheerful with a nervous grin before turning around hastily to wipe his eyes. 

Crowley stop in his tracks. He wanted to say something off-hand like “you appear to be dripping,” but thought better of it, saying instead, “Aziraphale what’s wrong? Has a demon come up here to - has someone hurt you? I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em. I -.”

“No, no,” Aziraphale sniffed with a sad smile. “No one has come in here…well, other than some rather odd civil servant type looking for some Jeffrey Archer books and one of these…what’d’you call ‘em “hipsters” looking for a copy of Henry Kissinger’s  _Diplomacy_.”

“Still doesn’t answer my question, angel,” Crowley said, leaning on something as usual and taking off his dark glasses.

“I just…words can hurt sometimes…that’s all.”

“W-was it something  _I_  said?” Crowley’s yellow eyes dilated. 

“No no! Nothing you said…just…Gabriel.”

“Oh, that arsehole!”

“And Uriel…I’m just…perhaps I am…useless…ridiculous…soft.”

“Well, you’re not useless…not anymore than I am.”

“I gave away a flaming sword.”

“Well, yeah, you did do that…and you’re a little…extra…but you’re not ridiculous.”

“Really?” Aziraphale was brightening a bit but he craved more encouragement and allowed the demon to continue his praises.

“And, well, you’re soft but that’s good,” Crowley said as he shifted, a smirk playing on his face.

“Is it?” Aziraphale whispered, a sob threatening to escape his throat.

Crowley sidled up behind him, daring to wrap both arms around his middle. The angel’s eyes closed and a tear rolled down one cheek. 

“Oh. Crowley,” he chuckled breathlessly. 

“Nothing is wrong with you.” 

“Do you mean that?” 

“I don’t lie to you, angel.”

“And you don’t mind that I’m soft?”

“I love how soft you are.” Crowley spoke so gently at his ear. In order to avoid being compromised himself with a tidal wave of emotion, he took the angel’s hand and lead him to the door.

“Now, let’s get one of those high teas you’re so fond of.”

Aziraphale smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://missanthropicprinciple.tumblr.com/post/185649612718/chaoticcrowley-asked-for-50-nothing-is-wrong


	5. Just breathe, okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More comfort from a demon.

 

“Oh. Satan.” 

Aziraphale pushed the door open to his bookshop, Crowley close behind, and came to a halt, his mouth agape. Books were strewn everywhere and the place had clearly been ransacked. It looked like the remains of the Library of Alexandria, or Birmingham Central Library which he could have saved if he hadn’t gone on holiday in 1879. He picked up a volume that had its back cover torn off like a dead insect with a crooked wing. 

Crowley walked around the shop with purpose, searching for the lingering scent of good or evil but he muttered, his throat full of contempt, “humans.” Aziraphale would have retorted with a smile, “I thought you liked humans,” but today he was silent. Today was today. And today everything was wrong.

Crowley turned for the lack of noise and saw the angel, with a vandalized book in each hand, slumping into a chair. Crowley immediately put the books on the angel’s desk and knelt down. Aziraphale was crying, not with the design to coax Crowley into some paltry favor, but with genuine tears. The demon took the angel in his arms. Aziraphale sobbed onto his shoulder.

“Just breathe, okay?” 

Aziraphale nodded and dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief. “How could a collector of antiquarian books do all of this?!” the angel said, trying to piece together and make sense of what had happened. Crowley’s face crinkled in sympathy. 

“If I could take your distress away like a stain on your coat I would.”

“Oh. Oh thank you.”

Crowley kissed the angel on his forehead and stood up. Aziraphale closed his eyes like a puppy that was having its ears scratched.

“Now,” Crowley said, picking up a mutilated book, “let’s put the kettle on and work our magic.”

Aziraphale looked up at him with all the love in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to writing this and messed up copy paste, and had to re-write the whole thing. It was absolutely beautiful before and now it’s subpar. Clipboard saving extension now set up in Chrome.


	6. You’re more than that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a minor identity crisis.

Aziraphale was often concerned about Crowley. Not that he was concerned with his physical welfare, at least outside of a church, but the lovely demon had looked a little more than usually sulky lately. Ordinarily he would brood sexily in the corner or even smolder, but lately, lately. Perhaps it was post-apocalyptic melancholy as if it were some twisted love affair. And one day the angel couldn’t take it anymore. He handed his demon a mug of cocoa after several attempts to gain Crowley’s attention.

“You…seem out of sorts,” Aziraphale said gently. He could have sworn Crowley’s amber-coloured snake-like eyes were brimming with tears for a moment. Crowley blinked and turned leisurely.

“I’m alright,” Crowley said before sipping some of the foam off his drink.

“You don’t seem like it, dear.”

“Well….”

Aziraphale held his breath, fighting the urge to interrupt as he sensed Crowley was about to say something significant.

“I don’t know what I am anymore.”

The angel touched Crowley’s shoulder and was shocked to feel a responding hand rest on top of his own. It took his breath away.

“I used to be…someone. I used to be an angel and I can’t remember what happened. And then I met you and I’ve been working for them, demons I don’t even trust and I…I’ve never been one of them, Aziraphale.”

“Of course you’re not.”

Crowley turned.

“But perhaps that’s all I am. Just a demon and I just think I’m not like them because that’s what I want. I’m j-just fooling myself, I-I don’t know.”

“No, no,” Aziraphale soothed, “No, you’re not like them and you’re not like the angels either-no! No I don’t mean you’re not angelic but you’re not like they are, not bureaucratic and manipulative and…we’ll you’re not. It’s like you said, we’re on our side.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I don’t lie…well, sometimes,” Aziraphale chuckled softly. “Well, not about things like this. I-I know I didn’t want to, I couldn’t admit I felt that way before but, I swear we are a side on our own. Almost human, you might say. Somewhere caught between the two. Not truly angels and certainly not demons. Incompetent, we mean well, but we’re not on their side, either side.”

“So I’m a fallen angel who can’t even manage being a demon.”

“No, no that’s not what I mean, oh heavens…I mean you…”

“I’m just a celestial being without a path…”

“With our path!”

“A former celestial being who yells at plants and drives too fast?” And then Crowley’s eyes were well and truly brimming with tears.

“You’re more than that.”

“Am I?”

“Of course you are.”

Aziraphale took both of their cocoas and set them on a nearby ornamental table. He took Crowley’s hands and the demon rested his head on the angel’s shoulder.

“You’re more than all of that. You’re you.” He wanted to say the demon was his but he stopped himself and placed a soft kiss to Crowley’s temple.

“Thank you,” came the mumbled reply. Aziraphale was sure he felt the demon smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://missanthropicprinciple.tumblr.com/post/186018316883/chaoticcrowley-asked-for-93-youre-more-than


	7. You’ve shown me what love can feel like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale appreciates his demon

Ever since Aziraphale decided that Crowley wasn’t going too fast for him after all he’d been showered with affection. Affection from a demon. Colleagues on high would tell him was impossible but here was celestial proof that the fallen were capable of showing love. The sheer number of kisses! Aziraphale stopped counting after a few hundred. Swift kisses in greeting, finger kisses at candlelit dinners, soul kisses in the back of the bookshop, forehead kisses accompanied by a steaming cup of tea. And the closeness! Simple gestures, handholding in the park, little gifts, the odd phone call. Things were similar to before. They couldn’t spend every minute together after 6000 years of being ships that pass in the night. But there was a little more reaching out, a bit more honesty. Aziraphale was wandering around his own shop one afternoon came across a copy of  _[Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue, Divided into three Books: By the High and Mighty Prince, James&c](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FDaemonologie&t=MjBiNGJkMTczN2NmN2MyODg5NTBlYWY2ZTc5MWM4NWMxYWVlYjI1ZixIS0ppa2E1UQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AGT5zzQf652Zl7aHlmIvVlA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmissanthropicprinciple.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F186534157478%2F36-for-ineffable-husbands&m=1)._ Stopping short he ran a finger along its spine. He was in love with a demon. What was a demon. A spirit of evil? His fellow angels had made comments that his demon would never say. He felt….he couldn’t even say it out-loud even to himself…he felt….

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale gasped. “How lovely to see you.”

Crowley walked up behind him, gave him a squeeze and smooched his cheek. He slammed a dusty bottle of alcohol on a nearby table before removing his sunglasses and man-spreading on a couch.

“1715 Terrantez. You like Madeira, don’t you, angel…angel?”

“Ah, yes, yes I do.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, not a thing.” Aziraphale flashed a smile but looked away. Crowley sprang up like a cobra on its tail and stood close to his angel.

“Come on.”

“I…you have made me feel…I can’t say it,” Aziraphale said sadly, looking into Crowley’s beautiful yellow eyes.

“Go on,” the demon said in a half-whisper.

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.”

Crowley pulled back, perplexed, placing a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“But you’re made of love.”

“But I’ve never received it, not like this.”

“Not so fallen after all,” Crowley smirked, bending his knees slightly to wrap his arms around Aziraphale’s middle. The angel closed his eyes with contentment and relief, leaning his head toward Crowley who began to kiss his eyelids.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, angel.”

Aziraphale thanked God.


End file.
